iHave Detention With a Beast
by Random Storygirl
Summary: What if Freddie had a real detention with Sam? What would they end up doing? Written for TheWrtrInMe's iCarly "What if...?" Story Challenge.


**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! I know I should be working on other things because updates are long overdue, but I have to have this posted today, so…you know, priorities and whatever. Anyway, I'm writing this for TheWrtrInMe's "What if…?" Story Challenge. So this story will be loosely based off the episode iWant More Viewers, in which Freddie got two weeks detention because Spencer wouldn't leave school. This fic will answer the question, "What if Freddie had a real detention with Sam?". I realize Freddie had detention with Sam in iGot Detention, but that doesn't really count in my opinion. Remember, this story is set in the first season, so Freddie has his stalkerish crush on Carly. If you liked this story, vote for it on the poll on TheWrtrInMe's profile page. Voting will be open until Saturday at midnight EST. So I hope you like this, review, or even vote for me if you want. :)

**iHave Detention With a Beast**

My stomach churned and my heart skipped a beat as the last bell rang when school finally ended. I had been dreading this moment all day. For the first time in my entire life, I had received a detention. In fact, I had received two full weeks of them.

I was going to die.

I was honestly surprised that I had even lived to see this day, thinking that my mother would have killed me once she found out about my punishment. Fortunately, once I had explained to her that it was Spencer's fault, she had run to Carly's apartment instead. She had stayed there for an hour, and I had heard a lot of high-pitched screaming. The next day, Spencer had a black eye and a heavily bandaged arm. For the next few weeks, whenever someone said my mother's name, he would curl up into the fetal position and mumble or cry to himself. Needless to say, I haven't had a real detention since, not counting when I voluntarily came to detention in order to film the iCarly Fiftieth Web Show Spectacular.

Hands shaking, I gathered up my books and walked out of the classroom. Most of the kids were chatting mindlessly with their friends about the latest celebrity scandal, school gossip, or, for some odd reason, unicorns. I stayed silent, my lips pursed tightly, afraid that vomit or even blood would flow out of my mouth if it opened. I saw Carly in the hallway waving at me, so I walked toward her. She looked so pretty that day, and just seeing her calmed me down a little and made me smile. Nonetheless, she could still instantly tell there was something wrong.

"Nervous about detention?" she asked knowingly.

"Th-that's an understatement," I replied shakily. I could be such an idiot around her sometimes.

"I'm sure you'll be fine. It's no big deal," she tried to comfort me.

"Have you seen some of the dangerous kids who get detention? I bet half of them don't even floss!" I complained exasperatedly.

"Wow, really? Those kids should be thrown into juvie!" she joked.

"This isn't a joking matter! Some of them might have even been to juvie!" I cried. Then I noticed Sam walking towards us, "And speaking of kids who should be thrown into juvie, here comes the girl who will soon be King County Prison's most valued customer," I commented scornfully.

"Wait, what about juvie? Did Miss Briggs find out that I was the one who buttered all the doorknobs?" she turned to me and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, yanking me above the ground, "You ratted me out, didn't you? This is the last time I tell a geek about one of my pranks! I swear, Benson, when I get out of juvie, I'm gonna take your skinny little arms and pound them until their bones shatter!"

"Freddie didn't tell on you," The three of us turned around to find that Miss Briggs herself had been standing behind us, "You just ratted yourself out," she grinned evilly.

"Hey, Miss Briggs," Sam greeted her nervously, "You…come here often?"

"Enough small talk, Puckett. That's a week of detention, starting today," Miss Briggs hollered.

"What?" Sam and I shouted in unison. I would die even more having to spend a week of detention with Sam.

"You heard me! One week of detention. Maybe you and Benson can do some delinquent bonding," Miss Briggs sneered as she walked away. Sam turned to me.

"You have detention?" she questioned incredulously.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"Who would have thought Fredericksburg had the guts to do something bad? I'm almost proud of you," she remarked.

"Don't be proud. I don't want your vicious ways rubbing off on me. Besides, it's Spencer's fault I got in trouble," I explained.

"How?"

"Long story,"

"Well I gotta get to my bus," Carly interrupted, "I'll see you guys tomorrow,"

"Bye Carls!" Sam saluted her, "Well, we should probably get going," Fear washed over me once again, and my feet felt as if they were glued to the floor, "Are you coming?" she inquired, confused.

"I-I'm scared," I admitted. Sam burst out laughing, "It's not funny!"

"Actually, it is!" she corrected me. I remained where I was, "Okay, look. It really isn't scary. Everyone there can beat you up, but I doubt they will. They don't care enough and most of them will be asleep or talking. If anyone tries to slap you around, I'll stop them. I'll make sure no one hurts you," I smiled. This was probably the nicest thing she had ever done for me, "Except for me," I frowned.

"Wow, thanks," I responded sarcastically.

"No problem. Now let's go, nerdmunch," she grabbed my arm and pulled lightly, but I didn't budge, "You know, if you're late, the moderator makes you stand in the courtyard naked," And with that, I sprinted down the hall, Sam snickering as she jogged behind me.

"…Rule number forty seven; no tapping, thumping, or snapping of any kind. Rule number forty eight; no thinking about bunnies. Rule number forty nine…" I saw Sam roll her eyes as Mr. Delvin continued his seemingly endless list of rules for detention. Mr. Delvin seemed to notice, "Hey, Puckett! Did you forget rule number thirteen?"

"Was it 'No mooing, neighing, barking, baying, or animal noises of any kind?'" she mocked him using a snooty English accent.

"That was rule number twelve. Rule number thirteen was, 'No facial movements of any kind unless you are talking for important reasons'. And by the way, you also just disobeyed rule number twenty four, which was, 'No talking to the teacher unless you are extolling him," he reprimanded her.

"Whatever," she crossed her arms and slumped in her chair as he resumed his list. I leaned over to Sam.

"Why do you always have to talk back to the teacher?" I whispered.

"None of your business, fudgepants," she bit back. I glared at her before leaning back. After a half an hour, Mr. Delvin finished his list.

"Alright. I'm going to fail…I mean…grade these papers in the library. Follow the rules. You can leave at five. Not that you're allowed to look at the clock," As soon as he left the room, everyone started either talking or sleeping. I heard many mentions of certain people "banging" each other, but I was too afraid to ask what that was. I decided to ignore it and start my homework.

"You're doing schoolwork?" Sam queried skeptically, eyeing my binder.

"Yeah. I'm using my time wisely. What's wrong with that?" I asked.

"Nothing. I really shouldn't be surprised. But if you haven't noticed, no one's doing homework. They're all having fun. Well, as much fun as you can have in an empty classroom. And you should, too," she explicated.

"Well what are you doing that's so fun?" I questioned curiously.

"Nothing much. Just drawing a picture of a puppy exploding," she told me nonchalantly.

"Well that's…pleasant," I noted, "Can I see it?"

"Sure," she handed it to me. My eyes widened.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed.

"What?"

"This has got to be the most beautiful image of a dying animal I have ever seen," I commented. It was so unsettling yet pretty at the same time. It was one of the strangest things I had ever seen, besides Sam herself.

"…Thank you?" she tried.

"No, seriously. The colors blend together real well," I praised her.

"It's not that good. It's really sloppy. Look at that puppy leg. It's disproportionate to the head," she criticized.

"I didn't even notice that," I assured her, "I never thought someone who is so great at destroying things could actually make something attractive. Do you take art classes?" I inquired. I didn't know much about Sam's extra-curricular activities besides pulling pranks.

"No. My uncle taught me how to paint," she explained.

"Your Uncle Carmine paints?" I queried disbelievingly.

"No. My Uncle George. Uncle Carmine can't even hold a pencil without breaking it," she corrected me.

"…Your family sure is…special," I commented.

"So is your mom," she shot back.

"So is your mom!" I responded. It was amazing how quickly we could transition from having an almost civil conversation to being at each other's throats.

"So is your face!" she spat.

"That makes no sense!" I reasoned.

"I don't care! I'm not gonna actually try to argue with a dork like you," she bit back.

"Then don't talk to me!" I suggested.

"You talked to me first!" she accused me.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Why do you always have to fight everything?" I asked.

"Why do you always have to give in to everyone?" she questioned.

"Could you be any ruder?" I insulted her.

"Could you be any annoying-er?" she affronted me.

"Shhh!" the whole room shushed us. We both turned red. A few seconds later, Sam spoke up.

"Hey, wanna get out of here? I can't stand being in this room with these losers," she queried, as if we weren't fighting moments before.

"You'd rather be alone with me?" I asked suspiciously,

"It's better than being in school," she told me, "So do you wanna?"

"Are you kidding? We'll get caught! We'll get more detention!" I warned.

"We won't get caught. I've done this tons of times. No one will tell and Mr. Delvin never even comes back here," she reassured me.

"Are you sure?" I solicited.

"Positive," she affirmed, "Don't you trust me?"

"No," I answered honestly.

"Why not?"

"Do I even have to answer?" she thought for a second.

"I see your point. So do you wanna come with me?" she offered. I pondered this for a moment.

"…Absolutely not," I dissented.

"Alright. Suit yourself…But good luck in detention…alone," she smirked as she walked out the door. Suddenly, I was worried again. Sam was my only protection against the thugs in there. I weighed my options. Staying posed the risk of being beaten to a pulp. Going had the same risk along with the risk of getting caught, but I really wanted to leave. Plus, although she was violent and foul, Sam was a pretty interesting person. I sighed before getting out of my desk and grabbing my book bag.

"Sam!" I shouted as I ran after her down the hall.

"Shhh!" she silenced me, "So you changed your mind?" she whispered.

"I decided I'd rather be alone with a beast like you instead of in a room full of dangerous strangers," I explained.

"There's only one problem with that logic," she told me.

"What?" I raised my eyebrows. She suddenly gave me a shove. I slammed into the lockers and slid down onto the floor. Luckily, my backpack cushioned the hit so it didn't really hurt.

"I'm just as dangerous as they are," she informed me, laughing as she dashed away. I chuckled, shaking my head before getting up and following her.

Maybe I could survive two weeks of this.

**Author's Note: **Well, that's all, folks. I hope you liked it, or at least didn't hate it. If you have anything you want to say, review. If you really liked it, please vote for it on TheWrtrInMe's profile page by Saturday at midnight EST. Thanks for reading. :D


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